


falling feels like flying (‘til the bone crush)

by coykoi



Series: ‘tis the season (to be jolly) [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, POV Outsider, kind of, slight angst, taylor swift helped me w this one, this counts as promptmas despite being barely festive, two singles at a holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coykoi/pseuds/coykoi
Summary: Felicia suddenly finds that she can’t stand him. It’s so dumb, the way she gets it now.The superficial idea that people are so enthralled with, everyone wondering what it would be like to love him—to be loved by him. And it burns her.Peter has so much to give, and it’s a shame that no one cares.
Relationships: Felicia Hardy & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: ‘tis the season (to be jolly) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061615
Comments: 36
Kudos: 82
Collections: Twelve Days of Promptmas





	falling feels like flying (‘til the bone crush)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlystill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystill/gifts).



> for promptmas kind of? but it’s also for Emma because her birthday is coming up ♥️ no i never wait to post anything on time, it is what it is

Peter Parker isn’t a funny guy.

Sure, Felicia has just met him the other day, some spillage mishap at their local campus coffee shop that she’d love to erase permanently from her mind. It’s whatever, first impressions are overrated. But time feels relative in this situation. He’s just an easy character to judge. 

Someone who seems to carry himself at the same level as everyone else, maybe even lower on his bad days, but he’s humble. Not the kind of person who considers themself a comedian despite having so many jokes. He knows he isn’t funny, and he takes it in stride, which is something she can appreciate.

But not everyone else seems to get the memo, and she doesn’t understand—the way every time he opens his mouth, he elicits a smile from one person. A laugh from another.

No one is that charming.

They’re at a holiday party tonight hosted by one of their few mutual friends, Harry Osborn, and Felicia is floating around the edges. She refuses to commit to a college party and be the one stuck with the obligation of cleaning up afterward just because Harry knows her.

But Peter is in the inner pit of it all, surrounded by a small circle of faces she’s seen around campus from time to time. None of their names have stuck with her, she can own up to that. 

The group of them, they’re laughing like Peter had just said something hilarious, and he’s blinking as if he doesn’t know what’s so funny. His smile thins, and he merely nods, ducking his head back into his drink. 

Felicia wonders if the people around him are aware that they’re sucking up. She wonders if they’re truly friends with Peter, or if they’re laughing to get on his good side. Anyone with eyes would want to, it makes sense.

Peter is conventionally attractive. He probably knows that deep down as well, as most guys his age tend to, but he looks far too uncomfortable in that circle to be using that knowledge to any advantage. 

Bringing her own cup of apple cider to her lips, Felicia watches from the sidelines, casually observing. She’s bored, but she doesn’t want to be here for nothing, so she might as well learn something.

If he notices her watching, he doesn’t say anything, but she doubts he sees her. His eyes are locked on the ground, hands gripping each other, a tense posture that makes him look like he's trapped himself.

Felicia doesn’t know him, not really, but she isn’t heartless. She feels bad. Her legs start moving towards the couch, stopping just a few feet before the circle.

“Peter Parker. Crazy seeing you here,” Felicia says, lips curling into a smile that makes it look like she knows what she’s doing. And she does, for the most part. “Feels like just the other day, you were spilling coffee on me.”

“Felicia? Um, hey. That—you know that was an accident,” Peter responds with an apprehensive chuckle, and she shrugs. “I see you’re enjoying yourself?”

Felicia rolls her eyes, turning away from him. She wonders if he’ll understand it as an invitation. “You don’t see shit, Peter.”

It doesn’t take long to hear him excusing himself from the others, but that sound is nearly drowned out by them heartily slapping him on the back. Acting like he’s about to drag her back to bed? As if.

“Hi,” Peter says, a casual thing, as he approaches her by the counter. His smile is small and unnecessarily apologetic. “Sorry again about the coffee.”

“I know you are,” Felicia simply responds, taking a long sip of her cider. It’s tangy going down her throat, and she enjoys the feeling. It settles warm in her stomach. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Peter’s eyebrows raise at that, though more in amusement than offense, and he tilts his head. “Uh. Were you waiting for me to say thank you first? If so, you might need to give me more hints next time.”

Felicia bites back a smirk, casting the couch a careless glance. “Saving you from your group of friends wasn’t enough?”

“Oh. Yeah, no, they’re not really, uh. They’re not my friends,” he clarifies in a sheepish manner, rubbing the back of his neck like he feels bad for just admitting that out loud. “But, uh, hey. They’re nice.”

“Of course they are,” she sighs, knowing that everyone is nice when they want something from you. Life lesson number one. “Harry’s parties are always bangers, huh. You must be having a blast.”

Peter snorts a laugh, a melodious short burst of air, and Felicia blinks in surprise. At the very least, she can acknowledge that he has a nice laugh and feels rather pleased with herself that she got to hear the real thing. An upper hand over those college friends of his.

“It’s not bad, but I have absolutely no idea where Harry is. Probably ditched, to be honest,” he says, looking around the party, Christmas music blasting somewhere in the background.

“Fair enough. I was almost considering doing the same thing. These lights are giving me a headache,” Felicia grumbles, grimacing at the green and red blinking bulbs. There’s ambiance and then there’s annoying. 

“Yeah?” Peter gives her what looks like a pitying expression, and if he would’ve given her the chance to tell him off, she would have. But instead, he pours her an ice cold glass of water and swaps it with the apple cider in her hand. “If you know Harry, you know he loves to spike everything. I’m sure it doesn’t help your headache.”

“Charming, that Osborn,” she hums, their fingers brushing with the exchange. Her cheeks are warm, and if there was a bit of alcohol in her drink, that would explain it. “Trying to get people drunk.”

“I think he just wants people to have fun at his party. He has good intentions at heart.” And it doesn’t even sound like Peter is making excuses for their friend—more like he actually believes it. Naïve or optimistic or both.

Felicia takes a sip of her water, fingers tapping against the counter behind them as she says, “You’re really the type of person to see the best parts of people, huh. Even when the worst parts are their defining characteristics.”

“I just try to stay net positive,” Peter says with a small smile, meeting her eyes with his own earnest, brown ones. She can’t bring herself to hold his gaze.

“But why do you care so much?”

“About what?”

“About people who are inevitably going to let you down. Again and again,” Felicia says, brows furrowed, because she doesn’t get it. The waste of energy. Why put in the time when you can just as easily cut your losses.

“Why wouldn’t I care? My friends are my friends. I love them, and I won’t push them to the side just because it’s easier,” he tells her with a shrug, like it’s just that simple. Like it’s black and white.

“Well. Good for you, Peter.”

Her tone comes off patronizing, and it’s not intentional, but Felicia sees the way his smile melts from existence until they’re both standing stone-faced. There’s a curl dangling above his left eyebrow, and she hates that she’s itching to brush it back from his face.

Felicia suddenly finds that she can’t stand him. It’s so dumb, the way she gets it now. The superficial idea that people are so enthralled with, everyone wondering what it would be like to love him—to be loved by him. And it burns her. 

Peter has so much to give, and it’s a shame that no one cares. There’s no way anyone is taking that into account when pressing against him on the couch and throwing cheap smiles in his direction.

Pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, Felicia releases a long breath and feels prepared to ditch the party. She has better things to do than stand here and feel sorry for Peter Parker.

When Felicia opens her eyes again, her gaze almost automatically gravitates to someone walking through the front door. The first thing she takes note of is that the woman is pretty—sue her. A natural beauty with wispy curls brushing shoulder blades.

Just the type that Felicia would consider bringing to her own home. For a single night or for meeting the parents, she isn’t sure which.

The woman almost makes her forget about the guy by her side, a welcoming thought, until she turns towards them and begins approaching.

Felicia finds herself straightening, though whether it’s in preparation to introduce herself or in defensiveness, she doesn’t know. The woman’s eyes are a challenge but not directed at her. Directed at Peter.

“Not even two hours later, Parker,” she says, unimpressed, and yet her lips curl into a small smile. Such a private thing in an open room. “What did I tell you?”

“You told me that I wouldn’t last three,” Peter responds, and Felicia swallows the sentence that was at the tip of her tongue when his laugh comes out soft. “You overestimated me, Michelle. Too much faith.”

“Damn straight,” Michelle huffs, her teasing seemingly a familiar thing when it comes to Peter. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you away from your holiday movie marathoning. You were right, per usual, and you can say you told me so.” His cheeks are red, and Felicia can’t even chalk it up to the holiday lights. “But thanks for coming to save me anyway.”

“You could’ve called Ned.”

“You picked up first,” Peter says, his expression something that should be reserved for the bedroom. It’s the blatant fondness in it all that makes Felicia feel like she’s the one intruding despite being there first.

Clearing her throat, if only to remind them that they’re not the only ones in the room, Felicia smiles. It’s sharp. She refuses to be trapped between a conversation that she’s not meant to be any part of.

“Hey. I’m Felicia.” 

“Michelle,” she offers in response, as if Felicia didn’t already know that. But she doesn’t know much else about this girl, her eyes like blinds that have suddenly snapped shut. They’re impossible to read. “Nice to meet you.”

“Felicia is the one I told you about the other day. The, uh, the one I spilled my coffee all over,” Peter says in a way that makes it sound like he’s explaining himself to Michelle.

Felicia doesn’t know what’s more annoying. The fact that she’s being reduced to the coffee girl, or the fact that he’s clearly talked about her to someone he’s close to and now that person is staring her in the face. 

“A classic move of his,” Michelle says, and it’s the fact that she’s almost apologetic on his behalf that has Felicia backing out. 

“So, you two. I’m assuming you’re dating?” she asks, blunt, knowing when to cut her losses. But then Peter shakes his head, and the foundation of her assumption cracks.

“No, we...we’re just friends,” Peter explains, and while his tone isn’t entirely convincing, Felicia finds herself wanting to believe him for her own benefit. But she’s not an idiot, and she’s not blind.

It’s the way Michelle doesn’t say anything. Not when Peter looks at her, expecting some form of back-up and doesn’t get shit. And maybe everything about her expression is meant to be noncommittal, but when she sneaks a glance at him when he looks away, it’s obvious to Felicia that it’s not.

And she isn’t going to play herself as the oblivious one when it’s clear someone already has that position. She refuses to set herself up for a losing game.

Quite a bittersweet feeling, knowing now that not everyone likes Peter Parker just for his looks. A loss for his college friends but a win for Michelle, it seems.

“Well. Okay. I’ll keep that in mind,” Felicia finally says.

“Okay,” Michelle echoes, a slight frown etched in her expression as she looks down, probably debating whether telling the truth is worth it or not. She swallows before tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “We should go, Peter.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Sorry,” he responds, brows furrowed in concern, the tips of his fingers brushing against her wrist. It’s a funny way to spell friendship, but Felicia figures it’s their own problem to sort out. 

“See you around,” Felicia says, swirling the last of the ice around in the glass of water he’d given her. It’s almost melted. “Or not.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Peter responds, distracted, his headspace clearly preoccupied. 

Felicia tips her glass, gaze falling on Michelle whose goodbye is in the form of a small nod, nothing more. They’re not friends, so the dismissiveness doesn’t hurt. 

But then again, neither were her and Peter, but his lack of goodbye feels like a surface wound. Not cutting deep but still enough to have Felicia thinking this is just another ‘what could have been’.

It’s the way Michelle is walking ahead of Peter towards the door, and yet he still hurries to catch up to her. It’s how he lingers close by her side, even when wolf-whistles sound behind him as they leave, his palm hovering over the small of her back because it’s icy outside. It’s the intimacy of every little interaction they have.

All of that and more is what tells Felicia that she never would have stood a chance in the first place.

It’s a true shame that Peter Parker already has someone to save him.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr and twitter @coykoii :)


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